


High Hopes

by luculias



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Angst, Background Relationships, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Love Rosie AU, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3626565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luculias/pseuds/luculias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s an age old question, one which has haunted her for years – if you could change anything, would you? </i>
</p>
<p>A story about love, and how life tends to get in the way. </p>
<p>A<b> Love, Rosie/Where the Rainbows End</b> inspired Modern AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

_Oxfordshire, November 2014_

Let it be said that she tried. She, Myrcella Baratheon, did everything she could. She smiled, she laughed, she made small talk. She talked about the flowers, the ceremony, the details of the bride’s dress. She smiled and said all the right things. She made them all believe that she had never been so happy. She even tried to convince herself. So never let it be said that she didn’t try her hardest.

 

She watched him on the other side of the room, her eyes burning with tears. It hurt to see him look so happy. So much had led up to this moment, so many choices and missed opportunities. But she was just as much to blame as anyone. As he and his wife cut into their wedding cake, his gaze flickered to hers for an instant. Something passed between them, something silent and unsaid. She thought she saw something in his eyes, years’ worth of regret that mirrored hers. She had to wonder _\- if you could change anything, would you?_

 

And then the moment was gone; he looked away from her, and looked back at his wife.

 

She watched bitterly as they smiled for photographs, looking so perfect together, and believing in some dark, rotted place inside of her that _it should have been me._ No one noticed her leave. No one except for him. She could feel his eyes on her as she pushed back her chair and fled the room. The back of her neck tingled long after the weight of his gaze was gone.

 

Once she was alone, she hid in the shadows of the building, her cold fingers fumbling for a cigarette. It was all too much. She’d tried, she really had. Trying to hold herself together and make it seem like she was alright was too much for her to bear. She was tired, and she wanted to go home. Her hands shook as she lit her cigarette. She took a long drag, and watched as the cloud of smoke hung in the cold night air. So much for quitting. All of those weeks of suffering through nicotine gum was for nothing.

 

Taking one long, final drag, she dropped the cigarette and crushed it into the gravel with her shoe. She was cold, her ugly bridesmaid’s dress wasn’t exactly designed for a cold November evening in Oxfordshire. She rubbed her arms and blew out a breath of frustration. She should have known she’d need a cardigan. Fuck Jeyne and her stupid matching bridesmaids’ dresses.   

 

The door beside her banged open, and Theon Greyjoy came stumbling out of the building with a bottle of whisky in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. Seeing him like that was like being transported back in time. He was just how she remembered him. Tall, dark and handsome, with a shit-eating grin. He eyed her up in that cocky, unabashed way of his as he leaned against the wall beside her.

 

“And what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” He said, and just like it, it was like she was sixteen again.

 

“It’s been a long time, Theon. How’ve you been?” She asked, figuring it would be better if she at least attempted to be polite.

 

“Don’t be a stranger, ‘Cella.” He slurred, bumping his shoulder against hers. She took a step away from him when he sloshed whisky over himself and his shoes. He didn’t seem to notice. He just turned his face away from her and pressed his forehead against the brick wall. “Y’know, I was taking bets to see if you’d even turn up. Thought you’d know better. But then I figured you’d have the balls to call this what it is.”

 

“And what is this, Theon?” She asked, acid seeping into her tone.

 

“A complete – _hic_ – fuck up.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “You always did have a way with words.”

 

Looking for a distraction, she fumbled around in her handbag for her phone. She stared at the background image for a moment, a lump forming in her throat. She wanted – no, she _needed –_ to go home. Back where things were easier. Back where she was happy. She still hadn’t replied to Shireen, who had asked – for the hundredth time – how she was doing, if she was okay. _No,_ she wanted to tell her. _I’m not okay._  But she couldn’t bring herself to admit that, so instead she locked her phone and dumped it back into her bag.

 

“I’m going to go,” she said. Theon turned to face her, the side of his face red with indents from the wall. His expression turned from forlorn to bewildered and she wondered if he’d misheard what she’d said. “I’m tired. It was a long flight.” She added, feeling the need to defend herself.

 

“You can’t leave, ‘Cella. Everyone’s gonna wonder where you are.” He protested, attempting to reach out and grab her arm. He missed and stumbled, then glared at her. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him look so angry. Never at her, at least. “So you’re just gonna fuckin’ leave, huh? You’re gonna make me sit through this shit alone? Some friend you are.”

 

She smiled sadly. “It was good seeing you again, Theon. Take care of yourself.”

 

She heard him yelling after her as she hurried across the gravel courtyard, to where her rented car was parked beneath a barren magnolia tree. She looked back over her shoulder and watched him stumble over his own feet as he tried to follow her. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped her keys twice before she got her car door unlocked. It was only when she was in her car, alone, that she stopped trying to hold herself together. Heavy sobs wracked their way through her as she drove down the long, winding driveway, her mascara leaving black tracks down her cheeks. She could barely see the road in front of her through her tears, but she didn’t care. She didn’t know where she was going; she had nowhere to go and her flight wasn’t until the morning. She just knew that she had to get away, as far away as she possibly could.

 

She didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

 

_Oxfordshire, 2001_

The first day at a new school was always hard, her mother had warned her about that. She hadn’t told her that people would stare at her like she was a freak, though. As she hurried through the crowded corridor, she kept her head down, blushing when she stumbled slightly over her own feet. She was looking for Sansa Stark, she reminded herself. They had all the same classes together, she was supposed to show her around and be her friend. But it had been almost four years since she’d seen her, she wasn’t even sure if she remembered what she looked like.

 

Lifting her head, she scanned the corridor for the shock of red hair she remembered.

 

And then, sure enough, she spotted her at one of the lockers, hanging up her coat. Myrcella breathed a sigh of relief and hurried towards her, glad to see a – reasonably – familiar face. Sansa hadn’t changed all that much. She didn’t have braces anymore and no longer wore her hair in two plaits, like Pippi Longstocking. She was taller, prettier, and she beamed at her when she spotted her.

 

“Myrcella!” She exclaimed, hugging her. “It’s so good to see you! Wow, you look so different! Can you believe it’s been – what, four years? Gosh. It’s going to be so great having you live here. I mean, it’s not as great as London - _obviously_ , but it’s still pretty cool. Have you seen anyone else yet? I don’t know where Robb and Jon are. Probably late. Theon’s got a car now, so he drives them. They think they’re _so_ cool.” Sansa giggled, babbling.

 

She grinned. “Joffrey can’t drive yet. He nearly crashed into a pond and failed his test.”

 

“Oh really?” Sansa giggled. She looked around her, frantically scanning the corridor for someone. “Is he here? I mean – is Joffrey at school today? When I was texting him last night, he said he might not come…”

 

“Um, yeah. He refused to come.” She told her, a little awkwardly. Joffrey had been bragging to one of his friends over the phone that some girl had a crush on him already. She hoped he wasn’t talking about Sansa. “Tommen isn’t here either. He wasn’t feeling well.”

 

“Well, well, well. Who’s your friend?” An unfamiliar voice drawled, making her jump. She turned slightly, coming nearly face to face with a boy who was wiggling his eyebrows at her like a villain in a bad movie. She stared at him, unsure what to make of him. He was tall and gangly, and was good looking, save for a few spots here and there. There was a little too much gel in hair, making him look like he’d been electrocuted, and he was looking at her in a way which told her he knew _exactly_ how good looking he was.

 

“This is Myrcella.” Sansa said, scowling at him. “She’s new. Leave her be.”

 

“Myrcella? What a pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He said, winking. “So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, eh?”

 

Blushing fiercely, Myrcella was too embarrassed to look anywhere but at her shoes. No one had ever flirted with her before. All the boys in her old school had been too scared of Joffrey to even look at her twice. She didn’t even notice Sansa’s brothers appear until one of them spoke.

 

“Give it a rest, Theon.” Sansa’s oldest brother said, his voice making her look up. The last time she’d seen him, she’d been convinced she was in love with him. She’d doodled _Mrs Myrcella Stark_ over all her notebooks until Joffrey had found them one day and made her cry. She flushed at the memory, made even worse by the fact that he was even better looking now. When he met her eye, he grinned broadly. She thought she might faint. “Sorry about Theon. He gets all his pickup lines from stupid movies. He’s got himself convinced that they actually work.”

 

“They do work!”

 

“Do not!” Robb and Sansa snapped in unison, making her giggle.

 

“C’mon, we’re going to be late to class.” Sansa’s other brother – who _technically_ wasn’t actually related to her at all – grumbled. He was wearing a black sweater over his school uniform and looked about as cheerful as the donkey from Winnie the Pooh.

 

“So what?” Theon shot back. “It’s the first day. No one is going to care if we’re five minutes late, Lord Snow.”

 

“Well, this has been fun.” Sansa said, rolling her eyes. “Myrcella and I are going to go now.”

 

Sansa grabbed her by the arm and steered her away from the three boys, off in the direction of their first class. Myrcella looked back and for an instant, her gaze met Robb’s. He grinned at her. And _oh,_ his eyes were so blue. She quickly looked away. She was still blushing from head to toe when she and Sansa stumbled into their first class of the day.

 

“Do you want to come over after school? I’m sure my parents would love to see you. And we can watch a movie or something? Theon usually comes over too, but the boys just go into Robb’s room and listen to weird music. They’re not very fun.” Sansa said as they walked to class – PE, Myrcella reminded herself with an internal groan. “My friend, Jeyne might come over too. If that’s okay?”

 

“Sounds good.” She said, and Sansa beamed at her.

 

They were a little late to class, but the teacher – Mr Cassel – didn’t seem to mind. He gave her a warm welcome when she introduced herself, something which she appreciated a little less when he told her that they were playing hockey - outside, in the cold and in the drizzle. _Wonderful,_ she thought. Now she was going to spend the rest of the day with frizzy hair and blotchy, red cheeks.

 

After quickly changing into their sports kit, she and Sansa traipsed outside. The rest of the class was already on the field, doing warm ups. Myrcella looked up at the grey sky and sighed. She suddenly wished she had stayed home too, and spent the day watching movies in bed with Tommen.

 

“Oh look, there’s Jeyne.” Sansa said, stealing back her attention. She looked ahead, following Sansa’s gaze and saw a small girl with brown hair waving at them. Sansa waved back. “She’s my friend.” Sansa explained. “We live on the same street.”

 

Jeyne hurried towards them, still waving. From afar, she reminded her a little of Arya, Sansa’s little sister. When she reached them, she hugged Sansa like they hadn’t seen each other in years and the two giggled as they broke apart. She was quite pretty (if you ignored her bright purple braces) and actually didn’t look anything like Arya, up close.

 

Jeyne glanced at her and smiled shyly. “Hi, I’m Jeyne.”

 

When Mr Cassel yelled for them to break into two groups, Sansa and Jeyne towed her in the direction of their friends. It was a little bewildering, how nice people were being to her. No one at her old school had ever been so nice. Not without guile, anyway. But, she supposed, a new town meant new people. And not everyone in the world was like the people she was used to.

 

Myrcella took a position on the wings of the pitch, where she didn’t have to do much. If the ball came her way, she knocked it in Sansa’s direction and let her do the work. No one – from what she could tell – was feeling particularly competitive, save one girl with bright green hair who had scored every single point for their team. She was the only one who seemed to know – or care – what they were doing.

 

From time to time she let her gaze pass to the boy’s class, which was on the other side of the field. When Jeyne had spotted them, she’d blushed beet red and looked away. She and Sansa had turned to see Theon Greyjoy run out onto the field, wearing nothing a pair of shorts. Robb had followed, wearing a full set of clothes and a jacket. Unfortunately. The boys were playing football – or something like it. It was more a bunch of idiots shouting and rolling around in the mud than an actual sport, but it certainly was entertaining for her to watch.

 

It didn’t escape her attention that every time she looked over at them, Robb was looking back at her.

 

She giggled and tore her eyes away from Robb when Mr Cassel blew his whistle. She hurried after Sansa, glad to be finally out of the muck and rain – even if she missed the view. She dumped her sports kit back in her bag and put school uniform back on, sighing contently at how warm her jumper felt. Her hair was a mess, all frizzy and messy, so she plaited it loosely and left the changing rooms when she deemed herself presentable enough. Sansa was waiting for her outside, fiddling with the friendship bracelet hanging loosely from her wrist.

 

“I have English now,” Sansa said. “What do you have?”

 

She pulled her notebook out of her backpack and squinted down at the timetable she’d quickly jotted down that morning. _Great._ She’d forgotten all about the advanced classes her mother requested she be in. _How embarrassing._

 

“Chemistry.” She replied, scowling at her timetable. “But it’s with the year above. They don’t have advanced classes here so Mum just asked if they could put me in a Year Twelve class instead.”

 

“Wow, they actually let you do that?”

 

“Well, not one says ‘no’ to my Mum.” She laughed.

 

“I’m pretty sure Robb and Theon do Chemistry. Maybe you’ll be in their class?” Sansa said as she stuffed her notebook back into her backpack. “I’ll show you where to go, it doesn’t matter if I’m a little late. My teacher is really nice.”

 

_Please don’t let him be in my class. Please please please._

 

She’d never be able to concentrate.

 

“Here we go!” She looked up and suddenly they were stopped and Sansa was beaming at her. “Wait for me here after class and I’ll show you where me and my friends eat our morning tea.” Sansa gave her a quick hug before she turned on her heel and hurried down the crowded corridor. Myrcella stared after her for a moment, the smile frozen on her face.

 

_Don’t be a scaredy cat,_ she chided herself. _They’re not going to bite._

 

She stuffed her trembling hands into the pockets of her jumper and made herself march into the classroom. Most of the students were already there, watching her curiously as she walked in. The teacher was stood by the chalk board, writing his name. He was a short, bald headed man with thick glasses and a blue bow tie. He smiled at her when her spotted her and waved.

 

“You must be Myrcella. Welcome, welcome!” He seemed nice enough, until he put his hands on her shoulders and swivelled her around to face the class. “This is Myrcella Baratheon, she’s only in Year Eleven and today is her first day so everyone needs to be nice and welcoming, understand?”

 

Her cheeks flushed red when she looked up, noticing nearly every pair of eyes were on her.

 

“Let’s see – ah yes, Podrick doesn’t have a partner. You’ll be sitting with him.” The teacher said, pointing at to the boy sitting alone at the second row from the back. No one was sitting along the back row, she noticed. She was tempted to ask if she could sit there and not bother with a partner. Instead, she nodded hurriedly and clutched at the straps of her backpack as she made her way to her seat. Her partner was a shy looking boy, who was a little chubby and wore a faded green Celtic FC hoodie zipped up over his school uniform. He was already wearing his safety glasses, she noticed. She sat down next to him and put her backpack on the bench in front of her.

 

“Nice bag.” Podrick mumbled quietly. “It’s very… pink.”

 

“Thanks.” She said, smiling politely.

 

“Ah, Mr Stark, Mr Greyjoy – glad you’ll be joining us.”

 

_Oh god._

 

Myrcella kept her head down, concentrating on writing her name as neatly as she could on the cover of her new notebook. A nervous giggle escaped her lips when she realised what she had written. _Mrs Myrcella Stark._ It was like she was twelve years old again, all that was missing was bright pink braces and jelly sandals. Hearing footsteps, she slapped her hands over the cover of her notebook and looked up just as Robb and Theon passed her. And – _of course –_ sat down at the bench behind her.

 

As she scribbled out her name and wrote it again, she tried to think about what she was going to tell her Mum in a couple of months’ time. _Oh, sorry Mum. The reason I failed Chemistry is because Robb Stark sits behind me and he has the dreamiest blue eyes –_

 

“Jesus H. Christ.”

 

Podrick glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sorry, did you say something?”

 

“No! I was just… um, thinking aloud.”

 

“Oi, Myrcella.” Robb stage-whispered and she reluctantly glanced over her shoulder. Those blue eyes were watching her intently, his lips pulled up at one side in an amused smirk. “Aren’t you a little young to be in this class?”

 

“Only a year younger.” She mumbled, not liking the thought of him thinking she was some little girl. The last thing she wanted was for him to think of her like ‘a little sister’, something the last guy she’d had a crush on had insisted on saying all the damn time – much to her irritation. “There’s no advanced program here, so you’re stuck with me.”

 

“Hey Pod,” Theon called. “Want to switch partners?”

 

Podrick glanced from her to Robb and shook his head. She pressed her lips together, stifling her laughter. Theon winked when he caught her eye and turned back to face the front of the class. “Come on,” he whined. “Be my partner! You’re so much prettier than Robb.”

 

Less than a minute later, something brushed against her arm and a ball of paper landed on the bench.

 

“I think it’s for you.” She said, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling when she caught sight of Podrick’s irritated expression. He grabbed the scrunched up piece of paper and unfurled it, reading aloud.

 

“‘ _You look very cute when you’re mad’.”_ He read, then cleared his throat, awkwardly avoiding her eye.

 

They both ignored the second note.

 

Being the first day, they didn’t do any real work. They just watched from their benches as the teacher burned magnesium ribbons over a Bunsen burner and almost set his bowtie on fire. Podrick was on his feet the moment the bell rang, rushing off and out the door without saying goodbye. She just shrugged as she packed her things away, supposing that they’d get to know each other better throughout the year.

 

“So we’ve got a break now…” Robb said as he got to his feet. “Do you want to hang with us?”

 

“Um, I think I’m going to sit with Sansa and her friends.” She told him, missing the disappointed twist of his lips. She stood, pulling her backpack on and started towards the door. “Thanks though.”

 

Sansa was already waiting outside when she reached the door. The redhead beamed at her and linked her arm through hers. She looked back as Sansa dragged her off in the direction of her friends, her cheeks warming when Robb waved. Sansa glanced at her and rolled her eyes.

 

“You don’t fancy Theon, do you?”

 

She scoffed. “Of course not!”

 

“Oh thank goodness. I’m so sick of all my friends having a crush on him. Do you know gross it is? He’s like my _brother._ If I hear one more person talk about how hot he is one more time I think I might be sick.” Sansa said and she smiled to herself, wondering how the girl would feel if she told her just how hot she thought her actual brother was.

 

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Too many names and new faces. It was overwhelming. And after the final bell rang, she found herself walking to the carpark with Sansa and Sansa’s two younger brothers, Bran and Rickon.

 

The rain was coming down hard and while she and Sansa huddled under an umbrella, her brothers ran ahead, kicking puddles at each other. The two were drenched by the time they all piled into their mother’s car.

 

Catelyn Stark beamed at her when she got in the car, looking just like she remembered her. She was an attractive woman, who Sansa took strongly after. She was dressed casually, in a pair of jeans and a jumper, and there was red paint smudged across her cheek. They were remodelling part of their house, she remembered Sansa telling her.

 

The Stark’s country estate was just as she remembered it too, beautiful yet homey. It was a heritage-listed estate, one which had been in their family for generations. It was similar in that way to her family’s own estate, Storm’s End. Only Winterfell was homey, while Storm’s End was draughty and most likely haunted.

 

Sansa towed her immediately upstairs to her bedroom. Her room was just like she had imagined – very… _Sansa._ The walls were butter yellow and covered with posters of Audrey Hepburn and Clueless and The Breakfast Club. Clothes littered every horizontal surface and there was a little tv set up in the corner opposite her large princess bed.

 

“You want to watch a movie?” Sansa asked and she nodded. “You pick.”

 

She decided on 10 Things I Hate About You, which was – _without question –_ the best movie ever and Sansa squealed in delight. “You must’ve read my mind,” she laughed.

 

Half-way through the movie, when Heath Ledger was sliding down a pole, singing, they were both too focused on the screen to notice the knock on the door. “Why doesn’t that happen in real life?” Sansa sighed and she snorted.

 

“If that happened to me I think I’d die. My last words would probably be _take me now!”_

 

When the door suddenly opened and Robb cleared this throat, she almost fell off the bed.

 

“Um, Mum wanted to know if Myrcella would like to stay for dinner.” He told them.

 

“I’d love to.” She said, ducking her head to hide her flushed cheeks. “I’ll just have to call my parents and let them know where I am.”

 

“You can go now.” Sansa said, throwing a cushion at his head. Robb rolled his eyes and ducked, the cushion sailing over his head. Sansa stuck her tongue out at him. “And close the door behind you!”

 

Back when they had been living in London, dinner in the Baratheon household had always been the same. Her father would be working, either away on a business trip or stuck in his office way into the night, and his place at the table would always be noticeably empty. Joffrey hadn’t been around much then either, he was always out with friends doing who knows what.

 

Dinner with the Starks was an entirely different affair.

 

They sat around a large table with all the family pets circling like sharks, waiting for scraps. Everyone was talking and laughing; it wasn’t tense or uncomfortable like dinner at home. Mr and Mrs Stark were sat together, talking about their day, while Rickon was feeding pasta to one of the dogs and Arya was waving her arms in the air, dramatically re-enacting someone’s fall at football practice. Robb and Jon were sat opposite her and Sansa, arguing about some band she’d never heard of.

 

“Do you still do ballet?” Sansa asked and she nodded, her mouth full of pasta. “The school has a dance team. It’s pretty small, but there’s a couple of really good dancers on it. You should join.”

 

She smiled and once her mouth wasn’t full of food, she promised she would.

 

She helped clear the table once dinner was finished and asked to use the phone to call her parents when she realised what time it was. If she called too late, neither one of them would be sober enough to drive – but she made a point not to mention that.

 

“Nonsense,” Mrs Stark said. “Robb will drive you home.”

 

And that was how she found herself alone in a car with Robb Stark.

 

“So…” Robb started to say as they drove down the road. “Do you want to go to the cinema on Friday?”

 

Myrcella blinked.

 

_Oh my god, oh my god. Is he asking me out on a date?_

 

“I mean – I was supposed to go with – er – Jon, but he can’t go anymore and I’ve already bought the tickets and everyone else is busy.” Robb continued and she didn’t notice the nervous way he kept looking at her. _Not a date,_ she was too busy reprimanding herself, _definitely not._ “So I was thinking that you could come instead, if you want. It’s better than going alone, right?” _Stupid stupid stupid._

 

“Sure.” She said. “That sounds like fun.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Friday rolled by, she was almost settled in at school. She knew most peoples’ names and liked pretty much all of the people Sansa had introduced her to. The only problem was Joffrey. Her brother had graced them with his presence half-way through the week and it had created something of a stir. First, he decided he was too good for the uniform and wore his own clothes. Which – somehow, because he was Joffrey – he got away with. Next, he skipped out early and was seen by pretty much everyone smoking a cigarette in the carpark.

 

And lastly, he asked out Sansa Stark in front of everybody.

 

He was all anyone could talk about.

 

She loved her brother, she really did in spite of all his shit, but sometimes it was exhausting being his sister. Especially when she became his unofficial spokesperson. _Is it true Joffrey is best friends with Jay Z? Did Joffrey really shag Britney Spears on a plane? When is Joffrey releasing his first album?_ Truly, it was bizarre how easily people accepted her brother’s bullshit.

 

And by Friday, she was exhausted.

 

She was so fed up with dealing with Joffrey’s followers that she almost forgot about her and Robb’s plans. He caught her by surprise at the end of the day, almost walking into her as she left her art class. He caught her arm when she stumbled and she giggled nervously.

 

“Hey,” she said, trying to act casually. “What’s up?”

 

“What time do you want me to pick you up?” He asked, and she frowned.

 

“What?” She stared at him for a moment and then her eyes went wide in realisation. “Oh! I’m sorry, I totally forgot.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Robb said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. She glanced around him and saw Joffrey striding down the corridor, fumbling with a cigarette. “I’ll be outside your house at around 6, if that’s alright?”

 

“Great! I’ll see you later!” She exclaimed, grinning brightly. “I have to go before my idiot brother gets himself another detention.” She patted Robb’s arm before she hurried off, rushing down the corridor after her brother.

 

She plucked the cigarette from between Joffrey’s lips when she reached him and crushed it under her shoe. She looked at him with reproach and he rolled his eyes. He continued walking down the corridor and she glanced over her shoulder. Robb was still stood outside her art class, watching her with an amused expression. He lifted his hand in a half wave and she grinned back before rushing after Joffrey.

 

“So I heard you asked Sansa out.” She called after her brother and he paused, half turning. He scowled when she fell into step beside him and continued walking without saying anything. “Do you like her?”

 

“What’s it to you?” Joffrey muttered.

 

“Sansa’s my friend.” She said, but dropped the subject when she spotted Tommen waiting for them by the front of the school.

 

She wrapped her arm around Tommen’s shoulders as they walked to the car. Joffrey claimed the front seat and put his headphones on. She sat in the back with Tommen.

 

Their driver – who was also Tommen’s nanny, of sorts – was a nice young woman called Eglantine, who was studying to become a teacher. Tommen filled the journey with chatter about his day. She stared out the window, her thoughts elsewhere. When everything had fallen apart, she’d thought leaving London would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. It was easier here – the people were nice and she had friends, _actual_ friends. No one really talked about what they’d heard about her Dad in the papers. Maybe they didn’t know. She liked to think that they didn’t, it was embarrassing enough living with it without having to deal with everyone else knowing and judging her family for it.

 

Her Dad had been a Member of Parliament, in line to possibly becoming Prime Minister one day, until a story suddenly broke out in the papers about his multiple affairs. Everyone at school had whispered about it and reporters camped outside their house and her parents argued night and day. How their marriage had survived it, she would never know.

 

But things were better now. Moving to back to her Dad’s home town was the fresh start they all needed.

 

When the car pulled up in front of the house, she tried not to grimace. Things were better here, but it didn’t mean it was her home. Storm’s End was a large country estate, surrounded by vast acres of land that had been sold off piece by piece over the last few decades. The house itself was beautiful, like something out of Pride and Prejudice, but she’d never felt at home in it. To be perfectly honest, she’d always been scared that it was haunted ever since her cousin, Shireen had sworn she’d seen a ghost of a mutilated clown running around in the attic.

 

Her room was on the second floor, overlooking the gardens. Her mother had promised that they were going to redecorate soon, and she planned on painting her walls either pale pink or a warm yellow similar to Sansa’s wallpaper. Most of her things were still in boxes so there was only her bed, a small desk and a wardrobe in her room. She dumped her backpack on her desk and threw herself onto her bed. She could hear the clicking of her mother’s heels on the wooden floorboards in the other room and closed her eyes, listening to her muffled voice. She wanted to ask her advice about Robb, but she’d be upset if she disturbed her while she was working. She’d just tell her to go away.

 

Forcing herself to sit up, Myrcella made herself get off of the bed and walked across the hall to the bathroom. She’d feel better after a nice hot bath. Bathes always made everything better. She used all the nice bath products and washed her hair with her Mum’s expensive shampoo. And after relaxing in the water for the better part of an hour, she got out and wrapped a large, fluffy towel around herself. She left her uniform in a heap on the bathroom floor and retreated back to her bedroom.

 

She decided on an oversized pink sweater and a pair of tight white jeans. She left her hair dry to on its own, letting her long hair fall into her natural curls. She didn’t wear much make-up – it wasn’t a date, after all – just a bit of lip-gloss and mascara.

 

She was ready well over an hour early and did her homework to pass the time.

 

She was glaring down at her Maths homework, wondering why the hell she had to do algebra, when there was a knock at the door. She heard Eglantine answer it and a moment later the woman called her name.

 

“Coming!” She yelled as she leapt off of her bed. She hurried around her room, frantically grabbing her purse from her school bag and shoving it into her handbag. She ran downstairs and thanked Eglantine as she passed. Robb was waiting outside, leaning against his car wearing jeans and a flannel shirt under a black jacket. He grinned when she stepped out the house and opened the passenger door for her.

 

They drove the cinema mostly in silence, forced to listen to the mixtape Theon had – apparently - left jammed in the tape deck. It was fine and she’d found it funny at least, until it started playing Shaggy on a loop and Robb couldn’t figure out how to stop it. By the time they arrived at the cinema, Mr Boombastic had played four times and she had the stupid song stuck in her head.

 

She bought popcorn and drinks while Robb went to collect their tickets.

 

She ate a handful of popcorn while she waited, watching Robb from afar. It was probably a good thing that this wasn’t a date, she told herself. Sansa was her friend and Mr and Mrs Stark were like family. It would be weird if they dated. Her crush was stupid, it was just left over feelings from when she was twelve and had never seen a cute boy before.

 

Robb handed her a ticket when he reached her.

 

“ _Hannibal_?” She exclaimed, looking up from the ticket with wide, excited eyes. Robb glanced down at his own ticket, looking confused. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing this movie!”

 

She didn’t notice the way he suddenly paled.

 

“Oh,” Robb mumbled. “Um, yeah. Great.”

 

She handed him his drink and walked through the double doors, into the cinema. There were only a handful of people in the cinema and she and Robb sat at the back, putting their feet up on the chairs in front of them.

 

Her eyes remained glued to the large screen the entire time, entirely absorbed in the film. Joffrey had put Silence of the Lambs on once, instead of the kid-friendly film they were supposed to watch, and hid behind a cushion the entire time. She’d crept into his room that night and whispered _‘hello Clarice’_ into his ear and he’d almost wet the bed.

 

It was towards the end of the movie, when Lecter had Clarice handcuffed to a table, forcing her to watch as he fed the corrupt Justice Department official cooked bits of his own brain, that Robb suddenly lurched to his feet.

 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She heard him say before he ran out of the theatre.

 

She glanced back at the screen and her lips twisted remorsefully. It was just getting to the best part. She got to her feet and walked out of the theatre, telling herself that she’d come back and watch the movie some other time. She found Robb outside, bent over in the street, dry heaving.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

 

“Yeah,” Robb said. “I must have the flu or something…”

 

She smiled slightly, tempted to tease him about being sick over something that wasn’t even real. Instead, remembering how upset Joffrey had been when she’d made fun of him for the same thing, she walked over and put her hand on his shoulder.

 

“Do you want to leave?” She asked and he nodded gratefully.

 

Something about that night, about him being sick over the sight of someone eating brains, made her stupid little crush on him disappear. Maybe it was because she stopped looking at him and thinking he was some dreamy Disney Prince and saw him as an actual person, who didn’t like horror movies and who – for some reason – had decided to go see one with her anyway.

 

“It’s alright,” she said as they got into his car. “I won’t tell anyone you ran out of the movie like a big girl’s blouse.”

 

“I did not!” He protested. “I am very ill. Practically on death’s door.”

 

“You’re such a liar.” She laughed and Robb turned in his seat to face her, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at the corner of his lip. “Scaredy cat,” she said as she reached out and tweaked his nose. Robb slapped her hand away playfully and she laughed.

 

She glanced at her watch and sighed when she saw the time. “You’d better take me home. I have to figure out a way to stop Joffrey from asking Sansa out again. Friends should never date their friend’s brother, that’s just gross.”

 

“Yeah…” Robb said, turning his attention back to the road. “Gross.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why I thought _another_ work in progress would be a good idea, I'll never know. I just was watching Love, Rosie (a fantastic film btw, and if you haven't watched it yet, seriously go and watch it as soon as possible) and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. And this happened. The Joffrey in this fic was heavily inspired by this fanmix (http://8tracks.com/doreah/the-king-can-do-as-he-likes), and the scenes directly referenced were this one from 10 Things I have About you (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6XGUhzfutc) and this one from Hannibal (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xx_hlStCL7g), The whole brain feeding scene is pretty gross, so if you're eating or have a weak stomach, I'd advise against watching it haha. Anywayyyyyy, I hope you enjoyed this and I'll try to update this soon :)


	2. all i want

_Oxfordshire_

_Summer 2002_

Her mother didn’t understand it, but Myrcella loved everything about her new life. Even though her parents fought more than ever, and Joffrey acted out for attention, and she was sure the house was haunted, she was happy. She was doing well at school; she had proper friends, for the first time in her life. She was on the dancing team because she’d earned it, not because her mother had forced them. People talked to her because they wanted to, and no one cared that her father’s name was plastered across the newspapers.

 

It would sound strange to anyone else, turning down a trip to the south of France to stay in a creepy old house with her drunkard father - but Myrcella had her reasons. She just couldn’t tell them to anyone.

 

The truth was, Robb was leaving for university at the end of the summer and she didn’t want to waste a single moment they had left. So she stayed. For him. And that, she couldn’t tell anyone. No one would understand. Especially not her mother, who would just laugh at her and ask her why she cared about _some country boy_ so much. A boy who wasn’t even her boyfriend, but her friend. Her _best_ friend.

 

If not for Robb, she never would’ve gone to Alys Karstark’s party – which only rubbed in how little time she had left. Almost all of her friends were leaving; she wasn’t sure how she could last an entire year without them.

 

As she manoeuvred her way through Alys Karstark’s crowded living room, trying to spot Robb or any of her friends, the bulky flip phone her mother had given her for Christmas started to ring. She fished it out of her pocket and sighed when she saw who it was. _Great_ , she thought. _Just what I need right now_.

 

“Hi Dad.” She answered. “Just give me a sec, I need to get somewhere quieter.”

 

Pushing past the throng of sweaty, dancing teenagers, she ducked out of the house and stepped into the cool night air. The gentle breeze was refreshing after the warmth of the stuffy, smoky house. It cleared her head. “That’s better,” she said. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Can’t get the t.v to work.” Her father muttered. “Damn thing is broken again. I knew that bastard didn’t fix it. The slimy bugger took one look at it and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Should’ve known better than to trust someone your mother hired.”

 

Myrcella sighed and kicked off her heels when they dug into the grass.

 

“Are you sure you’re using the right remote?” She asked, and her father grumbled in response.

 

“Of course I am! I’m not as stupid as your bitch of a mother would have you believe. The damn thing is broken! You’ll need to call someone – not the same fellow as last time – useless, he was – tomorrow and get this damn thing fixed. There’s a game on tomorrow that I can’t miss. Ned’s coming over to watch it.” Her father barked down the phone, and holding her heels in one hand and her phone in the other, she sat down on a plastic garden chairs, knowing she’d be on the phone for a while.  

 

“It’s the black remote, remember. I put a sticker on the back to remind you.” She said, even though she knew her father wasn’t paying even the slightest bit of attention to her. Once he got an idea into his head, there was no getting it out. “I’ll call the handyman tomorrow, I’m sure he’ll know what to do. If not I’ll call the repair company and, considering all the issues you’ve had with it, I’m sure they’ll send a replacement. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to watch the game with Ned. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

 

Hearing her father sigh in relief, she smiled.

 

“How’s the party? You kids enjoying yourselves?”

 

“Yeah, we’re all having a great time.” She answered, her expression turning a little glum when she looked back at the party she was missing. “Have you had dinner yet? You did see the note I left on the kitchen counter, right?”

 

There was a pause. _I see,_ she thought. That pause meant that her father was still sitting in his room – where she had left him hours ago – in front of a blank television screen. “Your dinner in the oven, all you need to do is turn it on and leave it for ten minutes.”

 

“Oh.” Her father mumbled in response, and she sighed.

 

“It’s alright. It’ll keep ‘til tomorrow. Do you want me to order you a pizza or something?” She offered instead, earning a chuckle out of her father. If there was one thing her father loved more than sports and drinking, it was his food.

 

“Oh, there you are.” She looked up at the familiar voice and grinned at the sight of Robb walking towards her with two drinks in his hands. “I’ve been looking for you all over the -” He started to say, but stopped when he saw she was on the phone. He nodded in understanding and sat down on the lawn chair beside her, wordlessly handing her a drink.

 

She smiled. Rum and coke, her favourite.   

 

“Alright, so, I’ll order you a pizza. Was there anything else you needed?”

 

“I don’t think so.” He answered. “Will you be back soon?”

 

Taking a sip of her drink, she relaxed against the back of lawn chair.

 

“Probably. I’ll let you know.” She said, and she could hear her father’s quiet grumble of protest. “Sorry, I’ve got to go now, Dad. Robb’s here.”

 

“Don’t forget the pizza.”

 

“I won’t. ‘Bye -” She said, but it fell on deaf ears. He’d hung up already.

 

Lowering her phone from her ear, she sighed.

 

Robb was looking at her with a neutral expression, though she was sure he had lots to say. He always did. No matter what it was about, or when, Robb always had a lecture or two tucked up his sleeve. It was a gift.

 

“Why aren’t you in there, having fun?” She asked, gesturing towards the party with a wave of her hand.

 

He quirked his brow. “Why aren’t you?”

 

“I’m ordering my dad a pizza.” She mumbled as she scrolled through her contact list, looking for the number of the nearest pizza delivery place. “And you didn’t answer my question. Why are you out here, when you could be at the so-called party of the year?”

 

“He’s a grown man. He can order his own pizza.” Robb said, though she chose to ignore him. When she didn’t answer, he rolled his eyes and took a long drink from his beer. “You know me,” he muttered. “Not much of a party person. I only came because you invited me.”

 

She smiled slightly. “We both know that’s not true. As I recall, you had a _lot_ of fun at last year’s Christmas party. Right before you threw up all over my mum’s shoes, you went ‘round the entire house waving mistletoe over your head, asking for someone to kiss you!”

 

Robb laughed and hung his head in shame.  

 

“Come on you,” he said, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. He finished the rest of his beer and put it down on the arm of his chair. “You shouldn’t waste your night sitting out here, talking to me. You should go, have fun with your friends.”

 

“Only if you dance with me,” she countered.

 

She expected him to say no, to look very serious when he said something along the lines of – _I’m a Stark of Winterfell, I don’t dance, I’m not your performing monkey_.  So when Robb plucked the drink from her hand, set it down on the ground, and took her by the hand, she couldn’t have been more surprised. To her later shame, she forgot all about her father and his pizza. Robb pulled to her to feet and slung his arm around her shoulders.

 

A week later, she was still laughing at the image of Robb doing the robot.

 

* * *

 

 

She’d never been good at saying goodbye.

 

And now, saying goodbye was all she seemed to do. Everyone was leaving, and soon she’d be all alone. Joffrey was heading off on a gap year, Robb and Podrick were going to university, and Theon was – well, no one quite knew what Theon planned to do once he finished school. She still had Sansa, and the rest of her friends, but the thought of not seeing Robb every day hurt more than she’d ever thought it would.

 

They only had a week left; time was running out faster than she could bear.

 

The day was so beautiful. It was warm, the sun was shining, and they sat together under the oak tree in the Stark’s back yard, watching Bran chase Rickon and Shaggy Dog around the garden with the hose. She picked at the grass, her heart heavy.

 

“You’re my best friend – you know that, right?” She suddenly said, her voice thick with the tears she refused to shed. Not yet, at least. She wouldn’t let herself cry until it was over – until he was gone. Robb opened his eyes, his brows furrowed. “I mean – of course you know that, but what I’m trying to say is that you’re the best friend I’ve ever had – I don’t know what I’m going to do once you’re -”

 

“It’s going to be alright,” Robb gently cut in. “I’m going to London, not the moon.”

 

“I _know,_ but -”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be coming back to visit so often you won’t even have a chance to miss me. And you can come visit me as much as you want.” He said, placing his hand over hers. “I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you about this – I know you haven’t really decided what you want to do, or where you want to go once you finish school, but there’s this exchange program I’ve been hoping to get into, to study abroad for a year or two. I was thinking, once you finish school, maybe you could come with me.”

 

She stared at him for a moment, incredulous, and she could’ve sworn he flushed under her gaze. “I know you’re happy here, but there’s a whole world out there – you always used to talk about escaping, about getting out of this place – and I just thought we could do it together.”

 

“I’m only happy because you’re here,” she admitted. Robb’s gaze flashed to hers, eyebrows raised in what looked like surprise. “You’re my best friend. Wherever you go, I go. I don’t care if you do go to the damn moon, as long as I can come too.”

 

And when he grinned, his hand warm and heavy on top of hers, she let herself hope. A year suddenly didn’t seem so bad, not when she knew what lay at the end of it. She could survive a year, knowing he would be there, waiting for her, once it was over.

 

“Promise me something,” she said. “Promise that you’ll visit come back so much that you’ll get on my nerves.”

 

“I’ll endeavour to do my best.”

 

“And promise you’ll come back and be my date for the school’s Christmas dance.”

 

He grinned. “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

The school’s Christmas dance was all anyone had been talking about for weeks.

 

There was a committee, who somehow made the school gym look cool with a just a couple of banners, a few too many strands of silver tinsel, and some strung up a couple of fairy lights. There was even going to be a proper DJ, not just one of the music teachers – and yet, all anyone could talk about was the fact that _Joffrey Baratheon’s_ band was going to play.

 

As if her brother’s band was something to be excited about.

 

The only reason he was even there was because he’d run out of money, six months into his gap year, and this was part of the agreement he’d made with their parents. If he played a few songs, he’d get a couple grand, and if he behaved himself at their family Christmas party, he’d get even more. She’d thought the only thing she’d get for Christmas was a month of Joffrey’s bullshit and a couple of presents she couldn’t really care less about, but instead that Christmas, she got her first proper kiss.

 

Robb had been her first kiss, if his parents were to be believed. She’d been five years old and she’d chased him around the garden, begging him to kiss her. She’d tackled him in the end, and gotten her kiss. It wasn’t something she liked to think about. Not now that they were friends. She might have sighed dreamily about it once, thinking about how sweet it would be if he were her first kiss and her last. But things were different, even if she did catch herself flushing whenever she looked a little too long into those blue, blue eyes of his.

 

She stood next to Wylla Manderly by the food and drinks table, scowling at the corner of the gym where it looked like Joffrey was attempting to suck Ros’ face off. She glanced down at the half-eaten sausage roll in her hand and set it down, feeling sick. It was difficult to decide which was worse – the fact that her brother was cheating on her best friend or that he was doing it with Theon’s girlfriend.

 

It was lucky, in a way, that the Starks were out of town.

 

But in another way, the Starks abrupt trip up north was just the kick in the gut she’d needed, as if dealing with her brother wasn’t enough. Her jaw clenched at the thought. _I’m sorry,_ had been Robb’s pitiful apology, _I don’t have a choice. It’s important to my parents that I go._ As if just one broken promise was all he had to be sorry for. Not the weeks of no phone calls and total radio silence.

 

She sighed. “I should say something. Shouldn’t I?”

 

“You should do what you think is right,” Wylla answered after a moment.

 

“Sansa is my best friend and when he’s not being a prat, Theon is my friend as well. But… Joffrey is my brother, and I’m supposed to be on his side. Aren’t I?” That she was even considering not taking Joffrey’s side would turn her mother’s beautiful golden hair grey. _Family first,_ she was fond of saying. _Blood is blood._ “It’ll break Sansa’s heart... She actually thinks he loves her.”

 

And then she saw Theon.

 

Theon wasn’t really her friend, but he was Robb’s best friend, who made inappropriate jokes and tried to get into everyone’s knickers. He also loved Ros. And there he was, stood by the doors of the gym, looking right at her as she ran her hands all over Joffrey and had his tongue stuck down her throat. The ever present smirk had vanished from his face, replaced with something heartbreaking.

 

“Oh, dear.” Wylla sighed. “This won’t be pretty.”

 

She never thought she’d feel sorry for Theon Greyjoy, but there it was.

 

“What’s he even doing here?” She wondered.

 

She’d expected him to make a scene, to scream and shout and get into a fight with Joffrey. It was how things usually went with Joffrey. But instead, Theon turned on his heel and fled the gym, slamming the double doors closed behind him. She glanced at Wylla, who just shrugged and went back to eating her mini cheese burger, before she found herself following Theon out of the gym.

 

Stumbling out into the cold, night air, she gasped at the sight of light flurries of snow in the air. Snow hadn’t been forecasted, not until the end of the month, at least. But there it was, covering the ground in a light layer of white. Theon was stood ahead of her, hands pushed into the pockets of his beat-up jacket, with his head tipped back, letting little flakes of snow catch in his dark, messy hair.

 

“Theon?” She called warily, clutching her coat tighter around her. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fuckin’ awesome. How about you?” He shot back, turning to face her with a dark scowl. “Oh wait, lemme guess, you’re going to say ‘ _it’s okay, Joffrey didn’t mean it, don’t be mad at him, it’s not his fault’._ Don’t waste your breath, princess. Your brother is a fucking prick, but hey, it’s fine. Ros can do what she wants, I’m over that bitch anyway. So you don’t need to look so concerned.”

 

She frowned. “Is that true?”

 

“What’s it to you, princess? It’s not like you give a damn about me.”

 

“Don’t be stupid.”

 

“No one cares. No one gives a shit. I wouldn’t be here if they did.”

 

She’d never really thought about it before, but if there was anyone who could come close to understanding the dark, sordid parts of her past that she did her best to keep hidden away, it was Theon. His family had dirty laundry, just like hers. His father was in prison, his two brothers were dead, and his own mother barely recognised him. He had only his sister and his two half-mad uncles, who disappeared for months at a time on their fishing trawler. His past wasn’t pretty, or perfect like the Starks. They had that in common.

 

“I’m here. I give a shit.” She said. “ _Fuck_ Ros. She and Joffrey can go to hell.”

 

His gaze snapped to her, his eyebrows raising in disbelief.

 

“I mean it!” She insisted, her teeth chattering. Snow suddenly didn’t seem like such a great thing. Snow was cold and wet and she didn’t like it one bit. “I mean, I know we’re not exactly the best of friends – but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. Robb is my best friend, and you’re like a brother to him. So that makes us friends, and friends look out for each other.”

 

For a long moment, he just stared at her, brows furrowed, like he was trying to work out a puzzle.

 

And then, without warning, he released a shaky breath and stalked towards her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, surging in to press his lips against hers. His lips were cold, but hard and insistent against hers.

 

The noise of surprise she made was lost against his lips as he kissed her sloppily, his teeth clicking against hers.

 

When she recovered from her shock, she shoved hard at his chest and he staggered away from her, smirking.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Always wanted to do that.”

 

She blinked in surprise. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.” He said, reaching out to touch her again. He ran his hands down her arms, taking hold of her hands. “Y’know, I think Robb was right, I should find a nice girl like he did. And you’re a nice girl. You’re not like Ros, you’re the nicest girl I know.”

 

“Like he did? What do you mean?”

 

“Robb didn’t tell you? He’s going out with Dacey Mormont.”

 

She shuddered, but it wasn’t from the cold. Robb had bailed on coming to the dance with her, spending his break with his family in Scotland instead, visiting some family friends. The Mormonts. And Dacey – _oh God,_ he’d told her about Dacey. Older, attractive Dacey, whose photo Sansa had showed her before they’d left. It made sense now.

 

“Huh,” was all she could say.

 

“I’ve missed you, y’know. I miss staring at the back of your head in Chemistry, used to spend all my time waiting for you to turn around and talk me.” Theon said, and she looked away. She’d always talked to Robb. Her so-called best friend. She was an idiot – she had thought she was over the stupid crush she’d had on him all those years ago, but it was still there, worse than ever. And he didn’t care. He was with someone else, and she was just a friend. A friend he didn’t care enough about to call, or visit, like he’d promised.

 

“Do you like me, Theon?” She asked, blinking hard against the threat of tears.

 

“Yeah. ‘Course I do, princess. You’re bloody gorgeous.”

 

She didn’t push him away when he leaned in again. She never thought her first kiss – her first real kiss – would be with Theon Greyjoy, out in the cold with a runny nose, but it was better than nothing. It made her feel wanted, and she liked that feeling.

 

And yet –

 

“You can’t tell anyone,” she breathed against his lips. “Robb can never know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh myrcella, university is very time consuming.
> 
> i speak from experience. seriously, guys, i'm sorry it takes me so long to update. the next chapter won't take me several months to post, i promise :D
> 
> chapter title from the song 'all i want' by kodaline.


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